I’ve had that little orange organ donor sticker on my driver’s license since I passed my test on the second try back in 1984. Most folks, myself included until recently, don’t realize that living organ donation is a viable option. This past July I donated one of my kidneys to a stranger at Fairview-University Medical Center in Minneapolis.

My decision to donate was based on science and ethics, both of which were challenged by a little voice that frightened me with “what if’s” throughout my six-month screening process: What if your remaining kidney gets damaged? What if someone you love needs a B Positive kidney? What if the recipient doesn’t take good care of your organ?

Research helped me make a rational decision, but it really came down to a spiritual choice. Could I make this leap of faith? Put my life in the hands of a transplant team, trust that the risk of losing my remaining kidney was minimal, hope the recipient would commit himself to a healthy lifestyle? Or, most troubling, believe I was making the right choice, one I wouldn’t regret? Eventually, after much prayer and meditation, my fearful “what if’s” disappeared.

My long, strange trip to becoming a kidney donor started last January when I saw an ad in the local newspaper. My blood type didn’t match that woman-seeking-kidney, but I was compelled to do more research. I was overwhelmed by tag lines from ads seeking living kidney donors on MatchingDonors.com: “Let’s meet on this side of heaven,” “Life Desired – Age 23” and “Baby needs healthy kidney.”

At that point I allowed myself only to read ads for patients with a blood type different than mine, ones to whom I couldn’t donate even if I wanted. There were creative pleas-“Looking for Kidney Angel,” “Wanted: 1 Used Kidney” – mixed with the desperate – “My family needs me” – and the universal – “Please help me.” I knew if I decided to donate I wouldn’t choose my own recipient; I could not pick who lives and who dies.

Research shifted my central question from “Why should I donate?” to “How could I not?” I am extremely healthy, and statistics show I’ll continue to be even with one kidney (the other grows larger to compensate). This was easy math for me. More than 60,000 people are on the waiting list for a kidney in the United States, and 17 of them die each day. There are fewer than 200 non-directed donors – also referred to as “Good Samaritan,” “anonymous,” or “altruistic” donors – since transplant centers began accepting them six years ago.

After the most thorough physical of my life and a 567-question psych exam (no, I don’t hear voices or tease small animals), I became the 33rd non-directed donor accepted into Fairview’s world-renown transplant program. My kidney went to the next person on their waiting list, and for the first six months post-op I’ll only know the age and gender of my recipient, a 50-year-old man who was using my kidney within hours of our surgeries.

All medical costs are covered by the recipient. Laparoscopic surgery means a small incision just below the belly button, a two-to-three day hospital stay and a short recovery time. State workers in Virginia and Wisconsin can take up to six weeks of paid medical leave, and almost twenty other states offer tax incentives for donors. Because I was given a paid leave, this donation essentially cost me three days of my time so someone else can live.

I’ve always been blessed. My donation is a way of sharing that good luck, good life and good health with another. What I’ve received in return may not be as tangible as a new organ, but it is just as life-changing. Preparing for kidney donation made me revisit some significant questions like, how will you make your life extraordinary? What is your rent for being in the world? And it renewed my commitment to a purposeful life. Most importantly, I was reminded that everything we have is on loan. I think of my kidney’s new owner every day, the two of us still unknown to each other though linked by something so small it would fit in his hand.

Patti See is a Senior Student Services Coordinator in Educational Support Services, teaches in the Women’s Studies program, and is a columnist for The Spectator.

If you have questions about See’s experience or would like to hear more about it, email her at [email protected].